Unknown Soldier
by ScratchingsOnTheWall
Summary: Post-Dirge. When Cloud finds himself sheltering from a storm within the old theatre of Midgar, he comes upon a red leather clad stranger who has been lost to the world. However, once the world around him begins to fall apart once more, will Genesis choose to become the hero he once swore to be, or will he leave them all, including the one he loves, to die? YAOI NOVELGenesis x Cloud


_We are monsters._

_We have neither dreams...nor honor._

**- CHAPTER ONE -**

The lights flew by faster as he approached home. A blur of faint white ascending every few seconds through the dark monsoon before blackness enveloped the man once more. Only the steady hum of Fenrir's upgraded engine amidst a flood of rainwater hurtling towards the ground gave note to the delivery man's presence within the thunderstorm. Blasts of wind hurtling through now dishevelled blonde hair, had the man not had the initiative to always carry, and near constantly wear, the black goggles commissioned by the health office for all public sector employees, his sapphire eyes would have been near torn from his skull, such was the ferocity of the storm. Through the wreckage of Edge the banks of the sewers deep beneath overflowed in violent spouts, bursting through the heavy steel manhole covers before drenching the primordial concrete in a mixture of cold water and filth. In a city once as bright as the sun itself during the little evening hours, this land, which had at one time been the metropolis capital of Gaia itself, now consisted of little more than collapsing buildings, crumbling walkways, and broken hearts.

Slowing the heavy bike at a roadway which seemed fairly less decimated compared to the rest of sector four, Cloud slid from his position, stretching aching muscles beneath the tight leather of his jacket. He had never been in this part of Edge, even when the city had once been Midgar, yet he recognised the huge plastering of theatrical posters still clinging on to the dilapidated concrete buildings. A sign swinging in the heavy winds, metal groaning loudly with each sway, drew mako infused irises to what appeared to be the entrance of the theatre. A once popular tourist district, this part of Edge had been a connection between slum and upper crust, where the rich and powerful occupants of the core above would come into direct fusion with the poor and wasting lives far below. Not that that had ever changed anything, of course. Humans were too absorbed in their own self desires and pride that they did not even realise the world around them slowly decaying away, not until they were united in arms against one common enemy.

A finger ran across his goggle lenses to clear his vision. Even after saving these people, time and time again, they still did not even realise how grateful they should be. Tifa argued that they would come round eventually, while Vincent had simply drifted away into the shadows, content with his own solitary. Yet Cloud was left, his sapphire irises now a target, a weakness. Where once they had shown strength beyond humans themselves, the mako a distorted gift from ShinRa to it's loyal SOLDIERS, he was now hunted relentlessly, simply for being different. Now the heroes were blamed for the calamity which had struck Edge, the Geostigma, and for every disaster since then. Neo-ShinRa could do nothing as ex SOLDIERS were rooted out one by one and tortured, killed by entire cities of people, the same humans they had sought to protect, had given their lives to serve. But while the others had slowly began to move away from human contact, near dislocating themselves from reality altogether, Cloud had stayed. He had Tifa, and the children, who depended on his ability to bring food to their plates. Where once he had fought so desperately, tirelessly, to become a warrior worthy of the planet, he was now reduced to retrieving and delivering small packages around the continent for what little change people could spare. Yet still Cloud had been _grateful_.

There was a flash of brightness, alighting the world around him for but a moment. Silver hair, black feathers, those…terrifying eyes. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Not was not the time to reminisce, considering the thoughts spilling in his mind reminded him far too much of the view of his oldest enemy.

Dismounting, Cloud began to push the vehicle towards the building's entrance, ignoring the rumble of thunder echoing in the endless abyss above. Fenrir took little time to push the doors open, even through the thick chains ensnared around the thick gold cast handles of the establishment, with the bike's extreme weight that no normal human could even budge a few feet. Now out of the rain, though still drenched head to boot in rainwater, the blonde carefully adjusted the vehicle so that it was leaning slightly to the left, now longer at risk of being washed away, then removed his goggles.

Taking in the sight of the once famous playhouse of Midgar, Cloud's gaze moved from the large entrance hall to the red carpeted stairway leading into the auditoriums far beyond. The carpet, now covered with rubble and fallen dust, gave the impression of the once straight red being distorted, akin to a river of blood pouring from the levels above. Chandeliers swung momentarily above from the gust that had followed Cloud's entrance, glass chinking against gold cast metal before slowly drawing to a silence. Paint clung feebly to the walls, desperately attempting to retain the beauty that once was. Removing his jacket piece by piece, unlatching the straps as they fell heedlessly to the dust piled floor by his feet, Cloud removed one of his swords from the compartment in Fenrir's side, sliding it onto the strap he rarely used upon his back. Small monsters still inhabited the remnants of Midgar's buildings, even after meteor fall. From within the building the rain outside was much quieter, a near silent drumming of droplets against the roof, silver trails gliding down glass panes. Though the rain had cleared his nostrils, now the strange scent of the theatre occupied his lungs. Glancing at the packages tied to the bike's edge, Cloud near audibly groaned at the sight of the soaked material. Reeve would not be pleased. Heading forward, the blonde stopped by the bottom of the stairway, staring up at what once would have been alit with candles and the sound of laughter. A flicker of memory shuddered through him, alighting the scene with crowds upon crowds of the rich, dressed in splendour and sipping crimson wine from diamond bright glasses. Had he been here before…? Turning his gaze, he followed the aura of a pair of children dashing past, giggling loudly while navigating through the oceans of suit and dress, before disappearing up the red steps. A soft smile found it's way to the blonde's usually motionless lips.

Zack.

Climbing the stairs one by one in no particular rush, Cloud wondered when his old friend had been in such a posh, reserved establishment. Zack had only ever made it to second class before the Genesis war, though he supposed even second class SOLDIERS would have probably been accepted into the theatre, be they from appropriate backgrounds or not. The TURKS certainly managed to get everywhere, even the slum born dogs, such as the feral Reno. Hand painted posters graced the walls even as he ascended the stairs, crying out the title 'Loveless' over and over. Attempting to picture his raven headed mentor in such a scenario seemed near futile, an almost laughable matter, to Cloud. Zack was not the one to attend such exquisite constructions; though perhaps if they had been showing the Golden Chocobo live then Cloud could understand. Another memory flashed by him, the sight of a large, suited man, his raven hair gelled back and jaw beard trimmed into shape. Angeal Hewley, Zack's mentor, the original carrier of the legendary buster sword. Angeal reached out to him, mouthing something quietly as though he were absconding the blonde who now took his old pup's place, before turning away, a low laugh escaping him before vanishing into particles of memory once more. Cloud had reached the top of the stairs.

Staring out across the landscape, Cloud felt awe building within his throat. Carved upon the walls in nearly every square which had not been taken out by the meteor's impact, marble angels danced in colonies, laughter near rippling from their inanimate lips, parted into small, pouted smiles, their wings glistening beneath the faint light drawn from the entrance behind Cloud. Row upon row of red velvet seats graced his presence, welcoming despite the dark enrapture bestowing his wake. Gold and red linen hung from near every edge available, and, though covered in a thin trail of dust, still retained the same brightness as the day they had been dyed. The rooftop above had near completely lost all remnants of the original structure, all except for one single, one winged angel, reaching out to Cloud from above, calling out to him to join her in a lifeless masquerade. Sapphire gaze shifting to the polished stage, the blonde found it strange that, although the rows of seats and viewing platforms from above had fallen victim to age, the stage seemed…perfectly clear. No rubble, nor dust, graced the dark mahogany wood, the scarlet curtains pulled back to the sides to reveal a backdrop of darkness which would have once been alit with coloured lights, following each actor across the stage before the curtains drew the show to a close. Rainwater ran down his cheeks before he brushed golden locks from his view, moving forward once more. Heading down the sloping walkways towards the stage, Cloud found himself…drawn to the centre. As though he were being called out to, begged to approach, even teased. Pulling his small body up onto the stage, he felt strangely awkward, the memories flashing through him. Had Zack also done this? What on Gaia would have possessed him to clamber up onto the stage in front of such a huge audience? Had he felt this same call that now taunted Cloud to follow in his friend's footsteps where he once had only dreamed? A few dancers glided past the ex AVALANCHE member, not even sparing him a glance as they moved in sequence, dresses flowing in their wake akin to that of a ripple upon the water's surface. An actor moved through him, unaware of his presence, continuing his speech to the audience.

_"The infinite mystery,_  
_The gift of the goddess is what the three men seek,_  
_We are disquieted by our actions,_  
_But their fates are scattered by war."_

Tensing up only at the sound of a light breath escaping strange lungs, Cloud instinctively reached for the handle of his blade, the memories around him dissipating once more.

"Quiet, the play is about to begin."

A slight frown contorted his features, the blonde turning to follow the voice with a steady sapphire gaze. Red leather flickered from one of the auditoriums above, mingled with the yards of fabric. Had Vincent followed him here? Had he not heard the strange voice, one he could not recall in this ocean of memories, the blonde would have assumed so. Something however twanged his mind. Loveless…that voice… it all seemed… familiar. With the sudden light of the theatre, all candles awakening with bursts of flames quietly dimming to a faint orange glow, Cloud caught a slight glimpse of the man far above; pale skin, reddish hair, a single earring dangling amongst strands of auburn. But what truly caught Cloud was those eyes. Cerulean met sapphire in a mirage of blue, only for the stranger to unlock contact first, returning his stare to the stage. Cloud turned back, finding the actor was stood silent, the dancers unmoving yet held in perfect poise, their bodies glistening with the warm gold cast from the chandeliers above. Had time itself stopped? Sensing that the man carried only fire and cure materia, Cloud ruled out the idea, though still found himself taking a step back, moving away from the centre of the stage to allow the play to begin once more. The dancers took off in flight, shadows rippling across marble angels and the now shifting backdrop, the actor began to speak once more, his voice clear and controlled, having perfectly recited the play to heart.

_"One becomes a hero, one wanders the land,_  
_And the last is taken prisoner."_

Realising he was now a disturbance to the memory flow, Cloud slid off of the stage, landing before the rows of chairs and returning his solemn gaze to the stranger hung so gallantly above. A single leg hung from the auditorium barrier, the red head staring out at the performance, mouthing the words in perfect sync to the actor. The blonde found himself captivated with the sight, orbs of sapphire hung within the darkness, delicately carved lips moving with each line. Before he'd even realised it, Cloud had been staring. Blinking, he turned away, guard still held despite fingers no longer reaching out to First Tsuragi. When the first act slowly drew to a close, the stranger took notice of the man pondering, rainwater still running from his clothes and damp hair.

"Who are you?"

A well spoken voice, upper class accent seeping out in near painful clumps. Cloud had only heard such a voice from Rufus ShinRa, and even then the man had not been so nearly as cultured as this individual appeared to be. Knowing an entire play off by heart, sitting in the most expensive seats of the theatre? It reeked upper class. Yet even with such an abrupt, deliberate question, the man's voice still held a warm…charm.

At first, Cloud did not respond. He was in no mood for a fight, not that these years he ever was, yet even still, the clear perfection of fire materia, most definitely mastered, would make this stranger a hard opponent. He took a seat on the floor opposite the stage, choosing not to sit in the satin chairs, knowing he would simply soak them. Even if the theatre was slowly crumbling with time, Cloud would still show it respect.

"Me…? I'm no one." he found himself murmuring the last words, "nothing, but a puppet."

Unconvinced, yet choosing to retain his position in upper ground, the red head raised a finely preened eyebrow at this response.

"…You remind me of someone." the stranger drawled, leaning forward slightly despite being sat on the auditorium barrier high above the stage.

At this, Cloud turned his gaze from the show, a dancer dashing dangerously close to the stage edge before vanishing back in a flurry of colour and sound.

"He was also the strong, silent type." musing, those cerulean optics held onto Cloud from above, akin to a hawk watching it's prey.

"I don't want to fight." the words escaped Cloud's lips before he could even register them. It was all the more likely now that the crimson clad stranger would decide he was an ample victim, with such a weak, weathered response. A glistening drop of water ran from his fringe down his cheek, before vanishing into the shadows of his damp clothes.

The eloquent stranger simply laughed. A heart wrenching, honeyed chuckle which reminded Cloud so dearly of the raven headed SOLDIER he wished he could have saved.

"I have no desire to spar with the likes of you."

Was that an insult? Cloud had grown so used to the countless taunts and jibes from ever more countless enemies that he had grown near impenetrable by mere words, yet something about that response drowned with pure arrogance. Choosing to ignore the stranger's jibe, Cloud returned his weary stare to the performance. The actor was now well into act two of the play, the dancers having now fled and the scene taking that of a strange prisoner of war camp, much alike that of the TURK interrogation cells. A man lay bound in chains, surrounded by the flickering, prehistoric oranges of the stranger's candles, a dozen different shadows curving around the prisoner before the chains suddenly parted, a woman entering the stage dressed from head to foot in rippling whites, brunette hair pulled back by gem covered clips, emerald irises glistening with hope. Shifting to a scene of the countryside, similar to the vast grasslands of which Rocket Town sat so peacefully upon, a small cottage buried between two hills with a single orchard growing delicately upon the landscape giving the impression of perfect tranquillity. The man stood with the woman in his arms, smiles alit upon their lips, yet in his eyes, Cloud could see the regret swirling in monsoons, much akin to the one beyond these walls.

_"But as happiness grows, so does guilt,_  
_Of not fulfilling the oath to his friends."_

A single droplet of water ran down his cheeks once more. The tear was bitter upon Cloud's lips as it rolled towards the floor, only stopping when he caught it midair within a gloved hand. He had failed them, his closest friends; Zack, Aeris… Clenching his hand into a fist, the tear disappearing in a leather embrace, he realised he was openly crying in the sight of a complete stranger. Silently reapplying the sombre mask, his gaze shifted to the auburn haired man, who seemed to be paying little heed to his inner turmoil.

"What year is it?"

What kind of question was that? Had this man completely separated himself from the rest of civilisation? Then again, if Vincent and the others could do it, it seemed only appropriate a complete stranger would manage to do so; considering his content with draping himself over the auditorium banister high above and wording the play completely perfectly to no one in particular.

"Two thousand and ten."

"…I see."

"I'll be gone once the rain stops. I don't exactly make a habit of crashing plays." Cloud muttered, half to himself, running a hand over the pink ribbon wrapped over his left arm which Tifa had given him what seemed like so long ago. Wondering what hour it was, Cloud shifted his hand through one pocket to find his phone, only to find the mechanical object completely drenched and fizzing once he tried to tap a few buttons. Sighing, and now with no way of contacting the others if this got messy, the blonde leaned back, eyes returning to the play. Now that act two had finished, it seemed an intermission was scheduled. Memories of men and women shifting from their seats to move to the foyer, the same two children dashing past, squealing happily, left Cloud feeling slightly unravelled. Now that the actors and dancers, along with the entire crowd, had abandoned him to his fate, he was sat alone with the stranger.

"Are you a fan of Loveless?"

Candlelight flickering upon his skin from a distance, giving a slight hue of orange upon the pale flesh, Cloud shook his head. The stranger seemed offended by this, brushing soft auburn locks from his sight with a single gloved hand.

_"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess._  
_We seek it thus, and take to the sky."_

Wondering when the actor had returned, only to find the stranger quoting eccentrically from his pose high above, Cloud stared at him, as though awaiting more. Cerulean optics narrowed, a visible scowl forming over his features.

"Loveless, act one."

Cloud simply nodded once, turning his gaze to the ceiling far ahead. That angel still called out to him, reaching out with her silent embrace, desperate for chilled marble to meet the warm of flesh. At the sound of the disgruntled stranger shifting his position, disappearing from sight by the time Cloud's eyes had returned to the auditorium above. Blinking once, the blonde found himself frantically scanning his surroundings for any traces of the red leathered stranger, only to have a sudden gust of wind collide with him, throwing him back against the ground. A tip of cold steel pressed against his throat. Sapphire eyes widened, rapier sword held upon his skin. The stranger was glaring fully now, cerulean irises blazing with hostility. Unmoving, Cloud opened his lips to speak, only to find the weapon pressing harder against him, a thin trail of blood running from the small cut created whilst pushing Cloud back.

"So ShinRa finally decided to send their dogs to search for me once more. What a _honor_." scoffing, the tips of the stranger's lips, which Cloud had unwillingly found beautiful, now bore a brutal scowl. "I'll ask you again. Who _are_ you?"

That was when Cloud noticed the mako rippling within those daunting eyes. Choosing not to reach for his sword, but rather, scavenge his memories frantically for any recollection of the individual now so close to taking his life, it was only when the crowd began to enter the room once more than the pressure against his throat was lifted, yet weapon still held steady, the materia caster sword unwilling to allow any thought of escape.

"I already told you." Cloud grunted, then slumped back when a heavy, worn boot pressed against his chest, holding him steady while the sword shifted away, "I don't know you…"

"Your eyes," the blade now redirected his rapier to Cloud's face, the sharpened tip dangerously close to an eyeball, followed by an angered hiss, "Mako. A SOLDIER trait. Now, unless you want to lose those eyes to my steel, I suggest you answer my question."

This stranger was mad. He had to be. Every individual in Edge knew of Cloud's strength, the sheer power which radiated from the blonde. They had witnessed him defeat a summon in a single blow far above the city skies, clashed steel with the ex ShinRa General himself. But this man had not been there, had not seen what Cloud had seen. With precise movements, Cloud slammed his right hand into the blade, stopping it just as it began to jolt forward. Cutting through the material of his gloves with ease, blood soon swelled at the cut upon the palm of his hands, fingers running with scarlet liquid. Pushing the stranger away from him, Cloud held the blade, the distance between the two growing until he was sure he could grab his blade if the red head sought to attack once more. Fingers still bit into the rapier's radiating red blade, mako eyes staring on at him in bewilderment.

"My name… is Cloud." blonde locks rippling from his eyesight as the blade's power matched with his own aura of bright blue beginning to tinge the air around his body, "Cloud…Strife." he released the blade, the stranger taking a step back.

Examining his sword, the red leather clad man held his gaze with Cloud's, both refusing to break the lock.

"Cloud…Strife." pondering for a moment, the stranger let out a small grunt, "I don't remember you."

"I was never in SOLDIER." Cloud remarked, simply. Many had mistaken him for having been so, due to the mako rippling within his irises. It was no coincidence. Yet he did not feel like explaining his four years in Hojo's laboratory with a complete stranger, who now possessed an even greater threat. "but…you…?" he waited for the red head to respond.

Instead, said stranger turned from him, sauntering towards the stage before leaping up with feline-like agility.

"_Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest_…" he spun on the spot, turning to Cloud in a blur of crimson leather and mako blue eyes, "what are you doing here, Cloud Strife? Are you here to die?"

This man was either extremely paranoid, or had a reason for the heavy suspicion. Cloud's hand moved to the pommel of his sword, but before he could feel the worn metal against his skin, the stranger had began to move once more, pacing from side to side, quoting that play over and over again before finally stopping, holding his blade in Cloud's direction.

"What happened to the others?"

Others? Did he mean SOLDIER? Cloud turned his head, though kept his gaze firmly locked on the auburn haired man.

"ShinRa fell… years ago."

"And what of Sephiroth?"

Cloud felt his heart stop. Blood running from his cheeks, numbness flowing through him other than the scar upon his left breast, stinging wildly as the memories coursed through him. Sephiroth… the silver haired demon who had taken everything from him; his home, his family, his friends…his dreams. Plagued with constant nightmares of his oldest enemy, of the sight of Zack and Aeris bleeding out, of Tifa, the demon's sword having driven through her gut. He had returned, time and time again, only to cause more destruction, more suffering… and this man was asking for him? Cloud felt his body trembling with anger, yet held his upper lip stiff, responding lowly.

"He's gone." forever.

Lowering his eyebrows in clear disapproval, as though this information had offended him, the stranger tilted his head to the side, before turning completely, crimson following in his wake as he began to walk off stage.

"The rain has passed. You should leave now, Cloud."

His hand, having began to reach out, in a near exact way as he had done when Zack had left to fight ShinRa's dogs, to save him, Cloud's lips parted in a silent cry.

_Don't go._

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